said no--give it to the poor." This was the way Uncle Wilyim
went on. He told us, however, some stories that was rather too
much to be easily swallerd. In fack, my Uncle Wilyim was not a
emblem of trooth. He retired some years ago on a hansum
comptency derived from the insurance-money he received on a
rather shaky skooner he owned, and which turned up while lyin at
a wharf one night, the cargo havin fortnitly been removed the day
afore the disastriss calamty occurd. Uncle Wilyim said it was
one of the most sing'ler things he ever heard of; and, after
collectin the insurance money, he bust into a flood of tears, and
retired to his farm in Pennsylvany. He was my uncle by marriage
only. I do not say that he wasn't a honest man. I simply say
that if you have a uncle, and bitter experunce tells you it is
more profitable in a pecoonery pint of view to put pewter spoons
instid of silver ones onto the table when that uncle dines with
you in a frenly way--I simply say, there is sumthun wrong in our
social sistim, which calls loudly for reform.

I 'rived on these shores at Liverpool, and proceeded at once to
London. I stopt at the Washington Hotel in Liverpool, because it
was named after a countryman of mine who didn't get his living by
makin' mistakes, and whose mem'ry is dear to civilized peple all
over the world, because he was gentle and good as well as trooly
great. We read in Histry of any number of great individooals,
but how few of 'em, alars! should we want to take home to supper
with us! Among others, I would call your attention to Alexander
the Great, who conkerd the world, and wept because he couldn't do
it sum more, and then took to gin-and-seltzer, gettin' tight
every day afore dinner with the most disgustin' reg'larity,
causin' his parunts to regret they hadn't 'prenticed him in his